The Bachelor Party
by GracieSnow
Summary: Oneshot. Harry's getting married, and Hermione has to attend his bachelor party. A few drinks in, with Draco Malfoy across the bar looking tanned and handsome, and she's beginning to wonder if she's over her head. [EWE]


A/N: This was just a little oneshot that was bouncing around my head while procrastinating. Isn't that always lovely? Hope you enjoy!

Standard disclaimers apply. I do not own HP or any of the characters.

* * *

Only a weekend, Hermione mused to herself. Only a weekend—she could do that. She'd attended countless parties before, right? This was just one long, multi-day party.

It didn't help, as her stomach tightened into knots while she finished packing her favorite black one piece into her suitcase. One weekend of fun and festivities, all planned for Harry's bachelor party. They were spending it at a resort in the British Virgin Islands, located right on the beach. There would be a sauna, pool, open bar and a buffet. She'd saved up for the trip because her Ministry job didn't pay as well as everyone thought it did, and damn it, she would not chicken out now and lose the money she'd spent on it.

The thing that was mostly making her nervous was because it wasn't just Harry's bachelor party—it was actually Theo, his fiancé, bachelor's party as well. Kind of a joint thing, which seemed to defeat the purpose, but would end up being one long weekend party with friends from both sides. And she'd hung out with Theo's ex-death eater friends before, but somehow this seemed different. She'd have to endure hours of endless chatter on the beach too, before the bar at night. Seemed like a cruel joke.

But for Harry, she'd do anything. He was like her brother, and she'd never seen him happier than with Theo. The war had taken it's toll, but eight years later and everyone seemed to be recovering moderately well. After Harry and Ginny had called it quits, Ginny had run off to explore the world, and was currently somewhere in Thailand working on unifying magical ministries. Neville and Luna were already expecting their second child and were the picture of a loving family. Ron and Lavender had ended up eloping on a trip to Vegas, and they seemed happy enough. Now, Harry had been dating Theo for two years after a chance encounter one night, and was getting married, while Hermione was… working at the ministry, trying to pass endless rounds of bills focused on magical creature rights. She felt immensely under accomplished in her personal life compared to her friends, but it was for that reason that she'd been able to take the time off for the bachelor party, right? That had to count for something.

Trying her messy hair back into a bun, and slathering on a thick layer of sunscreen, she headed to the ministry to utilize their international Floo network.

* * *

Once they'd all checked into their respective rooms at the resort, they headed to the beach. Hermione had been deeply pleased to note the jacuzzi tub sitting on the porch of her personal bungalow, along with a pretty hammock that looked perfect for reading. She brought a towel and shades to the beach, along with her favorite book.

She secured a spot next to Harry, who was sitting on a towel with Theo, and on the other side of Ron and Lavender. She rolled her eyes as Lavender planted a huge kiss on Ron when he greeted Hermione.

"Ah, this is perfect," Harry smiled, looking out at the ocean.

"Mmm," she hummed in agreement. "A little shade might make it easier."

"And a few degrees cooler," Pansy chimed in from the other side of Theo. "It's too damned hot, I'm going to sweat off my suntan oil."

"A poor tan is the least of your worries," Theo smirked. "Five galleons says Pans is going to come back with more than just a tan."

"Theo!" Pansy shrieked, but she was laughing. "So what if I do?!"

"I'm sure Saint Mungo's will have something for you," Harry chimed. "Or you could use protection—"

"Harry," Pansy turned to him, "Don't be so damned practical. If I come back with anything—disease or person—it'll be because I want to!"

Hermione chuckled, and stuck her nose back into her book. Others were beginning to arrive, like Zabini, Cho Chang, and Marcus Flint. She politely ignored them all until she heard Harry and Theo talking in low voices.

"He couldn't get today off from work because it's a Friday… He'll come tonight…"

Harry nodded at this, and Theo continued. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, I think we're all mature enough. I just worry about Ron," he sighed back.

Theo frowned at this, "Not Hermione?"

Hermione's attention piqued. Who were they talking about?

"Not really," Harry said, "She's pretty civil to everyone."

"Yeah, but after… at his house… she still seems on edge around my friends…" Theo was talking so low she could barely hear him. She leaned over so far that she accidentally lost her balance on her elbow and planted her face in the sand.

"Hermione?" She heard Harry ask as she picked herself up and dusted off her cheeks, which were now burning red.

"Oh, nothing. Too into my book," she smiled, and waited, hoping they would return to their secretive conversation. But they simply nodded, and turned back to watching the waves. After a few minutes, she sighed and got up.

"I think it's time for a swim, right? Will anyone join me?"

They all looked up from their seats, but said nothing. After a long few seconds, Harry coughed, "I can go, if you want?"

"No, don't worry about it. Enjoy the sun," she brushed him off, and rushed into the ocean, trying to hide her awkwardness.

* * *

Two glasses of wine into the night, and Hermione was finally feeling okay. A little less uncomfortable, a little bit of social courage induced by the warmness sitting in the pit of her stomach. She felt good.

Harry and Theo were dancing in the center of the bar, and she hung back with Luna and Neville, who had arrived just an hour before. Luna sat, drinking apple juice, while Neville fawned over her, but Hermione wasn't sure who else to hang around with.

She watched Theo's face light up with delight as he looked at the door, and gestured to whomever had just walked in to join them. To her surprise, a crop of white-blond hair, slightly taller than the rest of the crowd, sauntered over to the happy couple. She blinked.

"Bloody hell. Draco Malfoy's here," Neville commented, eyebrows raised to his hairline. "Would you like another drink, Hermione?"

"Yes," she whispered, in shock. "But how about a shot instead? Something strong."

As she felt the alcohol warm her nose after finishing her shot, she snuck a glance. It was undeniable, Draco Malfoy looked good, and she couldn't help noticing. His skin wasn't as pasty as it used to be, instead sporting a healthy glow. He was still proper as ever, dressing in a buttoned shirt and slacks for a night at the bar, but he'd rolled up the sleeves and kept the top button undone. She watched him pat Harry on the back, and noticed how his hands weren't smooth anymore, instead rough and calloused.

She blushed. Turning her gaze pointedly back to her hands, which were uncomfortably empty. Her own nails, which had an old layer of nail polish on them that had started to chip off. If that didn't just seem like the most pathetic thing in the world—then she didn't know what was. Admiring Draco Malfoy, the boy who'd made her school years hell, whilst looking like a mess herself.

Neville and Luna continued to chatter, and Hermione began to look for an escape. Perhaps it was late enough that no one would notice if she turned in for the night? Slowly, to avoid notice, she grabbed her clutch and slipped out the back door. Checking over her shoulder, she looked through the glass windows on the patio to make sure no one had watched her go. Moving quickly towards the steps, she didn't notice the figure leaning against the railing.

"Granger?" Malfoy's voice was surprised. She froze on spot, eyes wide as she craned towards him.

"You look like you've been caught robbing the bank," he let out a laugh, shaking his head. Attempting to look casual, she crossed her arms, but he only laughed harder.

"You're not leaving, I hope? The night only started."

"Of course not, I was just…" a nervous chuckle escaped before she could stop herself, "Just grabbing something. From my room. I forgot it."

If the earth could just crack open and she could melt away, that'd be perfect. Anything to save her from her infernal awkwardness.

Draco moved towards her. "I'll help you then. Was going to take a walk myself, and then come back to the party."

She hated the way his eyes twinkled at the last part—he knew she'd been trying to escape but he wouldn't give her an out.

"You don't have to…"

"I insist." He nodded, gesturing for her to lead the way. She frowned, but marched forward.

They moved in silence, taking the sandy path that wove between the bungalows in the resort. Hers was at the end of the lane, just around the corner.

"What are you retrieving?" He asked after a long stretch.

She coughed a little, and looked around the path, hoping something would present itself. She'd never been great at lying.

"A jacket?" He supplied, eyebrow raised with a smirk teasing on his lips.

Hermione furrowed her brow, looking down at the crop top she was wearing. It was backless, which she thought was cute, but had also made her cold despite the warm weather. So it should have been no surprise that her nipples had hardened. The fact that they were visible was of consequence, and she wasn't ashamed of her body. But damnit, and damn Draco Malfoy, because he had noticed.

She frowned at him as she tried to cover up her blush, crossing her arms again. He just shook his head and chuckled.

Her bungalow finally came into view and she scampered up the stairs. Malfoy hummed in approval as he admired the jacuzzi and hammock.

"This is a nice place."

"All the bungalows are the same," she commented as she unlocked the front door, "I would've thought whatever condo you rented here would be better than this."

Malfoy shrugged. "I live on the island, so I didn't know. Never stayed here."

"Oh," that took her by surprise, and she turned to look at him, "You live here?"

"As I just said," he nodded, moving past her into the little house. "The decorations are too themed for my taste, but they set it up well."

She didn't know what to say, just stared at him dumbly. It occurred to her, where had the mean-spirited boy she knew gone? He was still snarky, but way more mellow than she remembered. He turned towards her and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you going to grab your jacket, Granger? Or do you need an invitation."

"I have no intention of going back to the bar tonight," she blurted out.

"Oh? Very forward of you," he chuckled, "But I must say—"

"Oh Merlin, not like that!" She cried, cheeks redder than ever when she realized what he thought she was insinuating. "I do not want to—"

"Relax, Granger." He was full on laughing now, and she felt like she was in the Twilight Zone. A world where Draco Malfoy had laughed several times in her presence, in one night.

"You're so wound up," he moved past her towards the bar and opened a bottle of wine. "What have all these years done to you? You used to be able to take a little teasing."

"If you could call it that," she took a glass from him, frowning. "And you? When did you become so…? Tolerable."

"I've always been tolerable. You're just noticing it now."

"That is definitely not true," she gave him a side eye as he cheered their glasses together with a smirk.

She sat on the couch in the living room as they had their drink. She watched him slowly shake his head, and prepared herself for the inevitability of his next statement. Everyone who hadn't seen her for a while asked her the same thing.

"There's just one thing I don't get, Granger. We're you and the Weasel supposed to end up together? Don't get me wrong—bloody good thing you didn't end up together—but it doesn't make sense, given the way things were."

She took a long sip, and tried, "Wasn't Harry supposed to end up with Ginny? Weren't you supposed to end up with some pretty pureblood girl? I hear they're almost all married now."

Malfoy frowned at this but sat down across from her. "Touché. But answer the question—now I'm curious why you're avoiding it."

"Ron was," she sighed, "Ron was very nice. But, we were friends, you know? Without the pressure of the war it was… hard to see him as anything other than a friend."

"Nice?" Malfoy barked a laugh. "Don't keep going—I don't want to feel bad for the bloke. Heartless, Granger."

She pursed her lips together. "Well, what else do you want me to say? That he was an awful kisser?"

Immediately slapping her hand over her mouth, she erupted into giggles. "You can _never_ repeat that! I think I'm feeling the wine."

"Have another glass, then. This is positively thrilling." Malfoy could hardly contain the glee in his eyes at the salacious gossip.

She pointed at him, "You're unbelibable!"

He just laughed harder.

She felt her cheeks heat up—the wine really was starting to hit her. "I'm going to have the worst hangover tomorrow," she whimpered.

"Wait right there," Malfoy stood and entered the kitchen, returning after a moment with two full glasses of water.

"The worst part about getting old," she mused as she downed the glass, and returned to her wine. "But now you have to tell me something, Malfoy! Something secretive."

"I'd say your tidbit hardly counts as a secret. It's obvious Weasley would be a rubbish snog."

"Yes, but I _confirmed_ it," she laughed. Creeping closer to him, she indulged a whim as she took another sip. She poked his nose.

He blinked slowly at her, and then chuckled. The redness of his cheeks wasn't only sunburn, clearly the wine was getting to him too. He deferred. "Alright, alright. What kind of secret do you want?"

"Something bad."

"Hmmm… To be honestly, I don't have much gossip. Haven't seen many of our old schoolmates in years."

"Okay… than something from back when we went to Hogwarts!"

He scratched his chin. "Goyle used to wipe buggers on the desks."

She scrunched her nose. "Um, ew. Try again."

"I caught Longbottom and Lovegood snogging in the Divination classroom."

"_Boring_," she groaned.

"Fine, fine. I suppose… Parkinson gave terrible head."

"Merlin!" She dissolved into giggles. "You! And Parkinson?! When?!"

He waved a hand, "A long time ago. Didn't last long, eh? Couldn't stay with someone who couldn't… ahem." He coughed.

Hermione couldn't stop herself from laughing, clutching her sides as tears began escape. "You're _kidding_. All she'd ever talk about was how many guys she'd been with!"

"Well, she did have a bit of a revolving door. No one wanted to stay long."

"Oh Merlin! And where did it take place? The Slytherin dungeons?"

"Tsk, tsk," he waved a finger in front of her face. "No more details until you spill another secret."

"Noo," she whined, leaning forward. Suddenly they were face to face, the scent of alcohol thick in the air. His eyes were grey, but she'd never noticed how there were little flickers of blue around the edges. And his lashes were so long, and she loved the way the light reflected off them. And his hair was so fine she wondered if it felt as smooth as it looked.

He leaned in and kissed her, slowly and deeply, cupping her cheek with his hand. The world—which was already fuzzy—seemed to slow down to the rhythm of his lips and teeth and tongue against hers. And softly she felt herself, warm and hazy, wrap her arms around his neck and move into his lap.

* * *

She woke up in the bed of her bungalow and instantly noticed something was off. Across the bed, under the sheets, back to her with shoulders moving gently with each breath, was Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy was in her bed. She peeked under the sheets. Promptly put them back, and dashed to the bathroom.

He was naked.

She couldn't remember what happened. What had happened after that glass of wine? She'd drank too much before that to polish off a bottle and a half the way they'd had. She remembered secrets… and a kiss?

She splashed water on her face. Merlin, this could not be happening. Draco Malfoy—he'd been civil last night. Pleasant, even. But snogging? What had the world come to.

Before she could even begin to panic about what him being naked meant, and if they'd gone any further than kiss, Draco arrived at the door to the bathroom, boxers safely present.

"Nothing happened, by the way," he answered her thoughts and she let out an audible sigh of relief. He scratched the back of his neck as he yawned.

"You passed out immediately after kissing me. Which was very slobbery, if you ask me, Granger. You must work on your snogging technique."

She blushed hotly, and whipped her gaze back to herself in the mirror. "I was drunk! It hardly counts."

"Makes me really worried about Weasley's skills, if you're able to criticize him."

"Hey!" She grabbed her toothbrush from the sink and started brushing furiously. "At least I didn't bore a girl to sleep while snogging her. You should get a medal."

Malfoy frowned at that and moved past her to rinse out his mouth. "Not my fault you can't handle your drinks."

She narrowed her eyes at his reflection. "It _is_ your fault! You're the one who kept giving me drinks."

"I kept giving you water," he chided, "so you're welcome you don't have a massive headache. A little gratitude would be appreciated."

She just kept brushing her teeth, temper riled. Forget what she'd thought about him the night before—he certainly still did have a stick up his arse. "I'm going to the beach with the others. Don't follow me, we don't want anyone to be suspicious."

He snorted and bumped her over to wash his face in the sink. "I doubt anyone would be suspicious. No one would ever think I'd be interested in the head girl of the Golden Trio."

That stung, but she just walked away, and changed into her black one piece. She left before he could comment on it, because him calling her childish or matronly for wearing a one piece was the last thing she needed to hear.

* * *

After two hours of listening to Pansy prattle on about _Witch Weekly_, Ron and Lavender snogging on their towel, and Harry and Theo discuss wedding plans, Hermione had enough. They were all sitting in a cluster on the beach, tanning, unwilling to actually get in to the water and swim. While Hermione wasn't particularly in love with swimming, the ridiculousness of just starting at the ocean was beginning to drive her crazy.

"Oh, and I just read a really interesting article in _Witch Weekly_," Pansy drawled on, talking to Hermione or Luna or anyone who'd listen, "some girl invented a charm that looks and sounds like a contraceptive charm, but actually isn't. So if you want to fool a bloke, and saddle him down with a baby, she's willing to tell you the charm for a small fee."

Hermione's eyes crossed.

"That probably wouldn't be very nice," Luna offered in her musical voice. Neville squeezed her hand.

Malfoy chuckled, sitting somewhere behind Hermione. She whipped her head around and narrowed his eyes at her.

He raised and eyebrow and interjected, "Seems like there'd be an easier way, Pans. Just tell him you're on the potion."

"Well yes, but sometimes you know, blokes want to see you perform the charm. Just in case," she turned beet red.

"You after a baby that bad?" Draco shook his head. "There are easier, less morally destructive ways."

Hermione snorted, "As if you should be talking about morals."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Charming, Granger. And here I was about to offer you a ride on my sailboat, since you were being so pleasant."

She blinked, and looked around at the group. No one had seemed to notice his comment, and if it was real, well then… it would get her out of this dreadfully dull situation. She was willing to go on a boat ride alone with Draco Malfoy to escape Pansy—that's how painful it was.

"Really?"

He shrugged, and went back to flipping pages in his book. "It's real, I assure you."

"But were you really going to invite me?" She leaned closer and whispered, "I can't stand another minute here."

Draco's eyebrows shot up, "_Very_ bold, Granger. Again, I'm flattered, but—"

Eyes wide, she slapped a hand over his mouth. Harry looked over questioning, and she waved a hand at him.

"Draco can't stop his lewd mind from taking everything I say and making it bad," she hoped everyone would think her cheeks were so red from a sunburn, "And don't mind us. We're going for a quick sail."

Harry raised an eyebrow at that, and shook her head. He went back to chatting with Theo, and Hermione stood up, gathering her towel.

Draco took a moment, and then stood himself. "Well, I suppose we could go."

"You can't back out now," she hissed, "And I cannot handle another minute of this conversation. Please, just get me out of here. Don't misinterpret that." She added quickly.

He turned and led her down a path off the beach, that after about a half an hour of walking, they arrived at a little marina. There were about a dozen boats, some bigger than others, and she rolled her eyes as they moved towards the biggest. But to her surprise, the smaller, two person skimmer was the one they stopped at. It didn't have a true cabin, instead just a storage container and a place for people to sit comfortably. He hopped on and started untangling ropes, gesturing for her to get on board.

"Wow, this is so… quaint."

He frowned at her. "Yes, it is."

"Oh, I didn't mean it in a bad way," she waved her hands, and smiled nervously. "It's actually nice. Refreshing."

He nodded, and soon enough they were setting out together. The wind and water tousled her hair and she tied it up in a messy bun, loving the way it felt. Her eyes closed briefly, and she inhaled deeply.

"It gets me too," he chuckled as she opened her eyes, embarrassed at getting caught. "The freedom and the wind."

"Its just… very calming. Especially after that whole beach event."

"It wasn't that bad. Pansy's all talk."

She rolled her eyes, "She was suggesting some very abhorrent things. And Ron and Lavender…"

Draco laughed, and she noticed how a weight had seemed to lift from his shoulders. "Poor Lavender. Reminds me of your tidbit from last night."

"Shh!" She hushed him quickly, and laughed when it dawned on her that no one else was around.

"Poor Lavender," she agreed. "Though, it has occurred to me… Well you see, she was Ron's first girlfriend. And perhaps…"

Draco's eyes bulged. "Are you suggesting that she's the one who made him so bad?"

Hermione dissolved into giggles. "Well, if the shoe fits!"

"I suppose they deserve each other, then," Draco couldn't stop laughing alongside her.

After a few minutes of contentment, Hermione asked the question that had been bugging her since she'd first seen him.

"I've been meaning to ask. Why are you here, one this island?" She gestured to the crop of land that was slowly getting smaller. He dropped an anchor, and sat down next to her.

"Ah, that's a long story," he scratched the back of his neck. She pulled out the fruit she'd taken with her to the beach, and offered him a grape.

"I think I've got some time."

He accepted, and she watched the way he stretched back, sitting more comfortably.

"You know I was on trial, obviously, after the war," she nodded, and he took another grape. "It wasn't easy, and it wasn't pretty. My father is still rotting somewhere in Azkaban, and my mother had her wand taken, and was put on permanent house arrest. Because I was so young… they were more lenient, I suppose. I was banished."

She looked at him, eyes wide. "I had no idea."

"It was kept very quiet. We didn't want it getting out. And it was only for eight years."

She did the math, "So, you've been able to go back for two years? Why haven't you?"

He shrugged. "Not much to go back to. I'd sell the Manor if my mother wasn't tied to it. I have my own place on the outskirts of London, but I just… didn't feel like going back."

Hermione nodded, looking at the ocean. "So you've been here this whole time? Doesn't seem too terrible."

"I wasn't here the whole time. They put me on the Isle of Mann, first. They had to keep me somewhere Britain controlled, but wasn't on the mainland. It seemed like the obvious choice."

"So why'd you leave? That weather seems a little more… up your speed."

He let out a low laugh. "Well, it was the obvious choice. Some vigilantes figured out where I'd been stored and broke into my house. I barely made it out alive."

"I'm so sorry," feeling like she had to do something, she reached over and touched his hand. He nodded, and then shrugged.

"It's in the past now. They moved me here, and I hated it at first. The heat, the humidity. But now, it's become my home."

She smiled. "It is pretty great. And this boat is nice too."

"It's definitely a positive. And as part of my punishment, I had to become a part of the muggle community. So, I spend time volunteering at the local library, too."

Hermione was so surprised she laughed. "I can barely imagine it. But no wonder you're so tolerable now."

He threw her a smirk. "As I said before, I've always been tolerable. You're just noticing now."

Something about the way the light was hitting his hair, illuminating a soft halo around his head, the water reflected in his eyes, made her heart swell. It was a maturity, and air of age and wisdom, that surrounded the still sharp and quick witted boy who had been such a bully to her a long time ago. He had become someone new, like a stone polished smooth by the waves of a turbulent ocean, his rough edges had changed through the years. It was deeply attractive to her. And that scared her.

Remembering who she was and where they were, she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and looked away from him, across the ocean. Her cheeks remained red for the rest of their silent trip.

* * *

Saturday night and Hermione realized this was it: her last real social commitment of the weekend. Come Sunday morning, she'd probably be able to duck out of brunch early and make it back to her cozy apartment in London. After all this sun she was excited for a rainy day, where she could curl up with a book on her window seat, blanked and tea in hand.

She closed her eyes and enjoyed the music of the club. It was good to get out every now and then. She danced with Harry and Theo, Luna and Neville, and felt a rush of exhilaration. Perhaps it was the shots she'd done with Theo at the bar earlier, or her cocktail that she'd just finished, but either way she was having fun. Theo and Harry were dancing close, practically grinding while face to face, but it didn't bother her to see her friend so happy.

"They're going to have so much fun together," Luna sighed wistfully when she noticed Hermione watching.

"Yes, I think so too." She smiled.

"You will too," Luna looked up at her with doe eyes, and Hermione wrinkled her nose.

"What do you mean?"

"With Malfoy, of course."

"Draco? Are you joking?" She laughed, thinking it had to be a joke. Just because she fancied him just a _teeny tiny bit_ didn't mean she wanted anything with him.

"You'll have a great deal of fun, I imagine, with _Malfoy_," Luna continued, subtly pointing out how Hermione had stopped calling him by his last name.

She didn't know what to say to that, and if Luna had been drinking, Hermione would have thought the witch was drunk. Since that wasn't the case, Hermione just danced away from her , onto the other side of the floor. Ron was bopping around strangely, holding two drinks, clearly waiting for Lavender to come back from the bathroom or something. Hermione decided to throw him a bone.

"Hey, how's it going?"

"Oh ye know," Ron took a sip, "another day in paradise."

Hermione laughed, and then realized he was serious. He shrugged. "I fancy Harry'll have better communication with Theo. But eh, I'm not complaining."

"Yikes," she blurted before she could stop herself. Lavender arrived quickly and grimaced at Hermione as she took her drink. Inching away from them awkwardly, she joined the throng of people moving in the opposite direction.

Things just kept getting weirder and weirder, and she needed to find someone normal to talk to. Not looking where she was going, she turned left, only to bump straight into solid muscle. Looking up, she instantly recognized Malfoy's crop of white-blond hair.

"Granger, thank Merlin. Save me from Greengrass," he whispered into her ear, taking her by the elbow and leading her away from where he'd been standing.

"What was that about?" She yelled over the music once they were far enough away.

"Greengrass wouldn't stop prattling on about Zabini. She's hoping something will happen tonight."

"Oh?"

"Hoping he'll propose or something," he rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his whiskey.

"Do you think he will?" She was suddenly interested. Why was everyone getting married or already married?

He shrugged, "Don't particularly care. Last thing London needs is their progeny running around."

She laughed, "You won't even have to see it though! But true."

He smirked, "Hmm, well I was thinking about returning at somepoint. Maybe soon, we'll see."

As she started to ask him what had made him change his mind, he cut her off, "Shall we get you another drink?"

She shook her head. "I drank a lot last night. I'm already a few drinks in—I wouldn't want to be accused of being sloppy."

He flashed her a smile, "Can't imagine why anyone would say that, now can we?"

She pursed her lips, and then dissolved into giggles. Which only made her laugh harder. "It comes and goes. This is probably as good a sign as any that I should go back."

Draco nodded, and offered her his arm. "I'll see you home."

"Now, I can't let you do that. I'll be just fine on my own."

"Humor me," he finished his glass and left it on a table nearby.

"Such a gentleman," she teased. "_However_ are you still single?"

"Waiting for the right witch, I suppose," he opened the door for her and she mock-curtsied.

"Is that how the purebloods do it?"

He rolled his eyes, "I could care less. I've tried not to think about how purebloods do anything for a while."

"Oh?" She couldn't disguise her interest.

He gave her a funny look, and glanced at the path they were walking on. "I think that should have been obvious by now."

"Oh?" She moved closer to him, until they were face to face. Whether it was boldness or liquid courage, she leaned in. "What does that mean?"

He kissed her, and that was all it took. They barely made it into her bungalow before hands were ripping at clothing, teeth were nipping at necks, and kisses were pressed against bodies. His hands, rough from all the sailing he'd done in the past years, felt so good against her smooth skin. She sucked in a breath as he opened her blouse and began licking her breasts.

"God, you're so fucking good," he said against her nipple.

She gasped as his kisses moved further south. It didn't take long until she was satisfied, then him, and then her again.

* * *

She woke in the morning, sometime past brunch, with sun streaming in through the curtains. The reality of a non-drunken tryst with the man laying in her bed came crashing back, all at once. She whipped her gaze around, and watched him sleeping soundly.

The second time she'd woken up to this view. The second time her heart was pounding out of her chest, but this time, she didn't regret anything that had happened between them the night before. It was a strange realization, and she knew there was a high possibility this was just a one-off for him. She steeled herself for the let down when she saw him stirring.

"Ah, Drac—Malfoy. Um yes, how are you?"

He looked up at her, blinking lazily. "Yes, Granger?"

"Um. How are you?" she repeated dumbly.

"Very well, thank you. Yourself? Hope you're still able to walk."

Color rose to her cheeks quickly heating the back of her neck. "Ah. Yes, well, um."

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer, maneuvering her until she was curled against his chest. He sighed into her hair.

"Out with it, Granger."

"Well if this was just once, well that's totally fine by the way, but I was just thinking that perhaps, well if its okay, maybe you could tell me right now?" The words tumbled out and damn herself for being so awkward.

This was Draco Malfoy, right? Why was she even hoping for more?

But she was, and there was the truth. The way his body felt against hers, the way his smile lit up his face, and his snark was the correct amount of spice in his personality. His hair, his eyes, his hands—well, she wanted it. She wanted him, for who knows how long. However long he'd take a bushy haired book worm following him around, she supposed.

He chuckled, and she felt him kiss the top of her head. "Hermione…"

She blushed, and as strong as she could muster, she said, "Yes?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to grab breakfast. And then, perhaps lunch?"

"Oh?" She didn't dare hope.

But the smile was evident in his voice. "And, if you're not in any rush, you could help me decorate my flat in London. I have a feeling I'll be using it more in the next coming months."

"I'll have to check my schedule," she responded, but she was grinning as she turned and kissed him.

* * *

Let me know what you thought of a ~chill~ Draco!


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